


“What? I’m totally ravage-able. My nubile body is totally desirable and the only reason I haven’t gotten any action is because I’m saving myself. Yep. It’s totally a choice.”

by Leafontehwind



Series: Are we all just stumbling along until we get this right? [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Feels, Gen, I swear the next part is worth it, M/M, Okay. Nearly at 30 pages and the feels are there, Seriously. boys., Sometimes the muses in my head like to taunt me (and you), apparently watching all of teen wolf again with friends doesn't make the things happen, hopefully, sterek, what is slow build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-10-30
Packaged: 2017-11-17 08:53:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leafontehwind/pseuds/Leafontehwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or that one where...</p><p>Yep. Right. Totally the one where nothing really happens. Breakfast. Bed. Breakfast in bed. And Stiles is incredibly awkward with his thoughts going not in the linear (ahem, straight) line he's used to them going.</p><p>Or the one before things really started happening. With the touching and various other brain breaking things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	“What? I’m totally ravage-able. My nubile body is totally desirable and the only reason I haven’t gotten any action is because I’m saving myself. Yep. It’s totally a choice.”

Due to five or six energy drinks and a couple of extra doses of adderall, Stiles made it through to morning without dozing off once. Which wasn't exactly a huge feat. His sleeping habits of late hadn't been much different, getting a handful of hours of sleep every couple of days had been getting him by just fine. At least that was what he told himself, denial was a beautiful, beautiful thing.

He managed his night with one headphone in his ear, blaring music while trying not to disturb the sleeping wolf in his bed or his dad. Sure, he knew that Derek could probably hear the music, but he also was just trying to be considerate. And he didn’t manage to wake him up, Stiles thought that that was pretty damn awesome. For the first couple of hours, he had tried not to stare at him, which was pretty difficult without distraction. Even in severe pain, Derek seemed almost freaking serene while he slept. He didn’t snore, which of course was probably a werewolf thing if not only a Derek thing. With his stupid perfect face and model body, of course he didn’t snore. Maybe he’d have to ask Allison if she knew if Scott snored. Clearly this was important information that he had to know. If they didn’t snore, they probably didn’t drool or anything else vaguely embarrassing. If that was the case then Stiles could at least see the appeal of the bite. Hell, he could probably almost pass for normal. Well, at least until he opened his mouth. There was no cure for Stiles Stilinski’s mouth. 

When morning came he quickly changed into a pair of pajamas (in his room with a sleeping Derek Hale since he figured that he would continue sleeping and wouldn’t have to deal with someone seeing him mostly naked for all of two seconds) and headed down to the kitchen to prepare his dad an egg white omelet. At least this way his dad wouldn’t go and get one of those delicious grease filled breakfast sandwiches. Seriously, his dad was lucky that he cared so freaking much. Other kids would just let their parents deal on their own. At least the Stiliniski men stuck together. 

His father shot him a few furtive glances during breakfast but Stiles luckily was Stiles. He ignored it and pretended that nothing, absolutely nothing was wrong. At the very least, his dad didn’t ask any questions, so he was somewhat in the clear. Omitting truth was better then outright lying, right? Right. 

Again, denial was a great thing. 

Once his dad was gone and off to his whole protect and serve vocation, Stiles went about making Derek a pretty hefty omelet. He saw how much Scott could tuck away and he figured the broody alpha wasn’t much different. Though, Stiles wasn’t exactly sure if people craved food or could really, you know, process it after having their intestines on the outside of their body. He would be okay if he never saw something like that again. Like, really. He would probably vomit all over the place if he saw Derek before his body was attempting to heal itself.

Anyway, it was the thought that counted, right? 

So, Stiles brought up a tray with the omelet and tall glass of OJ, werewolf or not, vitamin C was certainly A-okay. Especially when they sort of looked like death. Derek was laying in his bed still, comforter pulled haphazardly across his body, barely covering any of it at all... which was pretty ineffective. Either way, werewolves seemed to run at a million freaking degrees so maybe he didn’t really need it. 

Stiles cleared his throat and slammed the door shut, yeah it was kind of rude but the dude was possibly dying in his bed so making sure that he wasn’t was still with the living and breathing people was important. He had no idea how he would explain a dead werewolf in the vicinity of his own house let alone his bed. 

Derek slowly shifted so his back was resting against Stiles’ headboard and his eyes seemed to take longer to open than a normal person to actually open to take in the light of day. Instantly Stiles felt kind of bad for waking him up this way. It wasn’t like Derek actually came looking for his help, Stiles had tracked him down and basically threatened the guy into coming back with him. Maybe he should try to be a little nicer while he was Florence Nightingale-ing it.

“Breakfast mister sourwolf, gotta keep your strength up so you’ll look ten times better and back to your decrepit run down warehouse dwelling in no time,” Stiles said walking over to the bed, placing the tray beside Derek before slinking (yes, slinking, its totally a thing Stiles was capable of even if it required some sort of grace) down into his computer chair. Apparently him and his chair were becoming a thing, they had passion maybe even a little bit of je ne sais quoi, they were a ship. An epic ship that was way more relevant than Jack and Rose apart from the whole freezing to death and dying thing. But, whatever, they were totally bonding while the alpha took over his bed. And, dear mother of _god_ , did he miss his bed.

He watched as Derek shoveled the food into his mouth, seeming to have an absolutely ravenous appetite despite the crazy injuries. “So,want to tell me what happened? Not that I don’t enjoy the dramatic silence that has lasted over ten hours and is slowly crawling toward the twenty-four hour mark, but really. I can’t exactly help out unless I know everything. Not that I don’t like a puzzle, but I just spent countless hours trying to figure out exactly what could be happening but without an active knowledge of Archaic Latin and the ability to just freaking be able to piece together random fucking supernatural information that I would have no way to actually know... yeah I would kind of need a heads up.”

Sure, Stiles didn’t think that he would actually get an answer from the big bad werewolf but what shocked him more was the fact that he seemed to be willing to come up with a reply before Stiles got pissed off enough to threaten him useless bodily harm. It was totally progress, right? Maybe Stiles was wearing him down. That certainly was something, right?

“The alphas.” 

Okay, he couldn’t actually help the fact that he had to roll his eyes pretty, you know, exaggeratedly,cause of course he would just supply him with an answer that was pretty damn obvious without offering anything else on the table. Clearly, Stiles already gathered that much without having to have Derek literally spell it out for him.

“Right yeah, cause I couldn’t figure that out from the fact that you guys were tracking the alphas and hello lets skip to the point where I’m not a freaking moron,” Stiles gestured wildly before blinking his eyes a couple of hundred times; and maybe after this little chat he would have to attempt to get a cat nap in while Derek was busy, you know, healing the hell out of himself. Well, that or another helpful dose of adderall. Either way, he probably would need some assistance in the vicinity of not passing the hell out.

Derek huffed out an aggravated breath of air, bringing Stiles out of his momentary reverie and reminding him that he was not alone in the room. “It takes longer to heal if the wounds are inflicted by an alpha. Worse if by an alpha from a pack of alphas.”

Oh. Color him shocked. This was... wow. Okay. So the reason why Derek looked like death was the fact that a pack of alpha’s kicked the shit out of him. Great. Stiles really and sincerely did not want to think about what the evil pack of alpha douches could do to a normal member of the pack let alone himself. He just... okay. Maybe he should talk to his dad about that vacation they should take. Maybe they could move to Virginia or something and be really good at being part of Civil War re-enactments or something. Debutante balls could definitely be their thing, Stiles could really put effort into learning how to do formal dances. His dad could make brownies for a bake sale. Whatever. It could totally be a thing. Maybe he could grow his hair out and get highlights and a new wardrobe. Anything in the name of survival.

“So. They... the alpha pack kicked your furry ass but didn’t want you to die?” Stiles rubbed a hand to the back of his head, his expression looking contemplative for a few moments. “Wait, so they just thought that this would be fun? Or a lesson? Oh. God. A lesson that was fun with blood and guts and oh my god. We’re all totally going to die.”

Great. Now he was totally on the verge of a full on panic attack and he was the one who was supposed to be taking care of Derek and he was pretty sure that there should be some sort of witness protection program but for those who were friends with supernatural beings because seriously his life.

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Doing..? What exactly am I doing? Pretty sure I’m just sitting here being Stiles and just plain awesome but feel free to explain to moi exactly what I’m doing.”

Derek ground his teeth together, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he looked toward Stiles‘ window like it was the best escape hatch ever. And, really. Someone should work with Derek on the whole talking and expressing things. Keeping things in wasn‘t going to help him get anywhere, one of these days he was going to explode from repressed emotions. “Helping.”

Huh. So... huh. Why exactly did it seem like uttering that one word was really fucking difficult for him? Was it really that fucking hard to talk about feelings? Everyone had feelings... He really seriously hoped that the Hales hadn’t been this emotionally constipated when they were alive and it wasn’t some rare hereditary thing that was passed down to little ol’ Derek.

And... okay. That was a dick move, even if it was only in his head. It was pretty damn questionable especially coming from someone who had lost someone pretty damn significant in his life let alone someone who had lost nearly their entire family in a homicidal fire pulled off by someone they were dating, so yeah. Stiles was the worst. 

“I’m pretty sure knowing me over the past like year has given you a few key insights to my personality dude,” Stiles rolled his eyes before leaning forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. “Okay. If you need it spelled out for you I’ll do it because I’ve been up for the past like thirty-six hours and the last time I did that I got my ass handed to me by a geriatric maniac. Consider yourself lucky. Why do I do anything? Because I want to. Sure, sometimes it’s on pain of severe freaking mangle-y death, thanks to your sadistic freak of an uncle, but usually?” Now he had to look away from the werewolf, because emotions were way easier to talk about under the fantastic mask of sarcasm and when had he endorsed honestly? Right. Two seconds ago. It was different when it came to him... right? Stiles worried on his lip before chancing a glance at Derek. And okay, he was going to go for it. “Its because I want to. Because I, you know, care. Okay? I’m pretty sure that if you kicked the bucket there’d be another alpha here trying to make our lives suck so... yeah, I’d rather keep you around since apart from you throwing me into things you don’t actually want to make a Stiles shaped hole in the ground, I’ll keep you around. Okay?"

There was a long audible silence where all Stiles could hear was the rush of blood in his ears and the freaking constant sound of his own heartbeat. He was pretty sure he wanted to die for a solid minute, minute and a half. But it wasn’t like he had asked for Derek’s hand in marriage or you know... gotten down on his knees and begged him to whip out-- okay and why was his mind just going there? His mind was totally not allowed to go there. Ever. Especially where Derek was in the same room as him and could totally like smell Stiles feelings... OH GOD. Okay. Maybe he really did want to die. Anyway. Yep. It wasn’t like he thought about Derek and him doing the horizontal tango or anything, the werewolves he knew just happened to be really and completely unfairly attractive and Stiles had seen them all in various states of undress... And, really. He was only human. 

Before he was able to open his mouth and reverse the bit of awkward that he might have stumbled into, Derek beat him to the punch. And that was just more of an awkward punch in the gut than anything else because, really, when did Derek out of anyone beat _Stiles_ to saying anything?

“You should sleep," And that was it. That was all he had to offer him. Three worlds, fourteen letters and after the omission that ‘hey, someone actually gave a damn about him being alive,’ that was all he actually offered him. That he should sleep. Even though it was summer vacation, ten in the morning and Stiles was supposed to be making sure his neighborhood alpha didn’t keep over and die. Yep. Tables were turned and Stiles wasn’t sure if it was just Derek being Derek and wanting to boss someone around. He really should get it by now and realize that most times bossing Stiles around didn’t freaking work.

He sat back in his chair, pressing his lips together as he shook his head. “Yeah. No I’m fine. I’ve got some reserve energy drinks to assist me on alpha duty. Then I’m full on calling your betas when they’re done with summer school to come and keep an eye on you. At least that way if my dad comes home on lunch I’ll have them here to make it less... awkward to explain."

And thats when he got the archy eyebrows of doom. Really,who else in the world could communicate so much with just their eyebrows? It had to be supernatural. Or maybe just an inherently Derek-centric thing. Maybe it was just like the vampires in Anne Rice, they all had their own little special skill set. Maybe this was just Derek’s. Stiles would probably ask for a return slip if he got that as his super awesome skill, except it worked with Derek. There would be little to nothing that didn’t work on Derek. Life was just freaking unfair sometimes. “Stiles," The werewolf’s tone sounded tired, not just in the ‘Hey I’m wounded and doing anything pretty much just plain sucks right now’ way but in a way that seemed to say that he was used to Stiles’ shenanigans and was trying to break through to him. Yeah, well, some people (namely his dad and Scott) knew how to read him that incredibly well. The fact that Derek might be counted among those two... well, it just pretty much summed up how awkward his life was right now."You’re running on fumes. Sleep is relevant even to you.”

Count this as eye roll number two of the day. He couldn’t imagine living with the guy, eye rolls and sarcasm would pretty much be a constant and that would probably become really freaking tiresome. “Kind of hard to do when some pain in the ass is making his home in my bed. And yes, I do recall the time when I drove all the way out to your house and practically made you come back here with me. I totally asked for this.”

“Stiles.” Derek looked down at the bed, gesturing to the empty space that wasn’t being taken up by him. Stiles’ bed wasn’t large, it was still the same full size that he had when he was a kid and it was big enough for him since there was apparently no chance he was getting lucky in this lifetime, so he never really pushed the fact to upgrade. That and he knew that they couldn’t really afford it. But, sure, there was arguably enough room for him on the bed. It just, it didn’t really occur to him to share the space with Derek. “There is more than enough room. I promise to wake you up if there’s any impending death approaching so you can at least throw me out the window before I start decaying on your precious bed.”

Wow... okay. That was a smile. Stiles swore he saw the corners of the alpha’s mouth curl upwards in a way that was not a scowl or grimace. Maybe being around real people was rubbing off on him. Stiles couldn’t help but wonder how normal the guy would act like if he actually was round people who did more then growl on a daily basis.

“Fine. Whatever. Two hours. And I’m setting the alarm on my phone.” Stiles stood, taking his phone out to set two, no make that three alarms to ensure that he woke up before it was close to the time when his dad might stop back in for lunch. That was if he didn’t try to stop at the diner and get some greasy food that he thought Stiles wouldn’t be able to smell on him. “And... no funny business.”

“Stiles.”

“What? I’m totally ravage-able. My nubile body is totally desirable and the only reason I haven’t gotten any action is because I’m saving myself. Yep. It’s totally a choice.”

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize. This was a little difficult to write because my brain and muses really, really, REALLY wanted me to skip ahead to the next part. Still. I promise it will be worth it and Sterek is an end game.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Hopefully you don't want to hurt me... because if you hurt me, the boys don't get past sleeping in the same bed. You wouldn't want that, right? ;-)


End file.
